


Wake Up

by KindZouzou



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Bellarke, Canon Compliant, F/M, Light Angst, Post-Canon, Post-Season/Series 05, Season/Series 06 Speculation, Sex, Smut, a girl can dream, bellamy and clarke finally figure their shit, very minor becho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2019-11-27 23:27:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 17
Words: 17,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18200429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KindZouzou/pseuds/KindZouzou
Summary: Bellamy and Clarke have to decide who they will wake up from cryo-sleep for their first trip to the new planet. They find their own way to agree...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everybody. 40 days before season six! This work will contain 18 parts so subscribe if you're addicted to Bellarke like me.   
> Also, English is not my birth language (I'm french so if you're French-speaking go ahead haha) so I'm sorry if there is any mistake in this work. I promise I tried my best! I use a dictionary and programs and stuff in order to improve my English. 
> 
> Any comment on the story and on the writing will be welcoming so PLEASE GO ON and Kudos are always appreciated!
> 
> I will post very regularly, like every two or three days. This work is almost done, I just have to reread it in English. 
> 
> Thank you!

Clarke bit her lower lip to hold back a new sound moan.

  
**"Stop doing that"** almost begged Bellamy.

  
The young man's voice vibrated on the inside of her thigh and his fingers blocked their movement on Clarke's clitoris, much to her frustration. However, this break allowed the young woman to recover enough breath to ask:

  
**"Do what?"**

  
Bellamy's firm and warm hand, resting on her intimacy, grazed her belly, chest, and throat, triggered uncontrollable shivers in his path, then slipped gently to her mouth. With the tip of his thumb, he removed her lip from the grip of her teeth by whispering:

  
**"This."**

  
Clarke took the opportunity to grab his hand. Her tongue came to caress the fingers that were playing a second before with other lips, then her mouth closed on those same fingers, sucking and licking fervently.  
It was Bellamy's turn to stifle a moan, then to whisper:

**"You're going to kill me eventually, Princess."**

  
Clarke could not help but smile victoriously.

  
**"Does that mean I won?"** she asked, mischievous.

  
His companion exhaled, and other shivers spread under the effect of his burning breath on Clarke's naked skin.

  
**"There is no way"** , he said as he kissed the young woman's belly button, **"that we awakened"** , he continued before licking his way to her chest, **"Diyoza."**

  
Clarke guessed the first name of the Colonel of Eligius IV more than she heard it. The name was covered by one of her sighs and her attention focused entirely on Bellamy's mouth on her right breast, on the tip of his tongue on her already erect nipple, and on the hand on her other breast.  
Clarke's back arched out of her own free will to seek further contact with Bellamy. At that moment, the young woman realized that the game was far from being won, especially if her body was no longer obeying her.

  
Lost in space and time, she thought back to the circumstances that had brought them both here. 


	2. Two

The memories passed by, faster than the lightning of a storm.

The moment they woke up alone after 125 years of cryo-sleep and met Jordan.

The images of Monty and Harper on the screen of the main deck of their ship.

The two suns around which their new planet orbited.

**"Be better. Do better,"**  Monty asked them after sacrificing his life for the survival of humanity. How can they ignore their friend's last wish?

So they had done better. They had been better.

Clarke had not straightened the barriers erected by hardship and time around her heart. The barriers that only Madi could normally cross.

Bellamy had tamed the anger that was storming beneath the surface of his emotions, had refrained from exploding and saying things he could only regret.

And, for so long that they thought they had forgotten how to do it, they had worked in harmony, in symbiosis...  _Together_. Slowly, they had opened up to each other, talked to each other, forgiven each other.

If it had taken several days for them to regain the rhythm and chemistry that characterized them before, it had only taken a few hours, perhaps even only a few minutes -  _if they were (finally) honest with themselves_  - for their feelings to resurface.

Six years of absence, one war, two ends of the world and 125 years of sleep were not enough to erase that.

Tenderness had returned first.

In the brightness of the looks they gave each other. In the blanket that the young woman would lay on Bellamy's shoulders when he fell asleep in the control room with a Clarke who refused to go to bed - not until she had reviewed the calculations made with Jordan's help for the third time - and that the young man refused to let her stay up alone. In the cup of coffee he brought her in the early morning when she was struggling to wake up from a short night's sleep.

Affection had quickly followed.

In the damp brown sweaty curls that Clarke would release from Bellamy's eyes after their daily training. In the hand that the young man placed in her lower back when he passed by her. When he let the young woman place her head on his shoulder after particularly difficult days, and when he finally fell asleep himself, his cheek rested on the top of her head as well.

Desire, on the other hand, was not born suddenly. One day, they simply realized that the attraction had always been there.

In the spark of each of their contacts. In the passion that animated sometimes their training every morning, sometimes the disputes they encountered during any disagreements. In the feverish dreams that sometimes woke Clarke up in the middle of the night. In the impulse that seized Bellamy when the young woman smiled and her lips fervently called his own.

Bellamy still remembered the moment when he almost gave in to temptation and fulfilled all the fantasies that were played in a loop in his mind at every moment of unconsciousness and awakening.


	3. Three

Like every morning, they had opened the doors of their rooms in an almost synchronized way. They didn't know how they were able to get out of sleep at the same time. Perhaps they unknowingly shared the same restless nights of nightmares, populated by the same ghosts and regrets...

 

It was always the case that when they turned the handles of their respective doors and crossed the threshold, one was always there to welcome the other.

 

They then proceeded in one step to one of the deepest rooms of the large ship. It was a room entirely dedicated to the handling of weapons of all kinds - from sword to rifle - and to bare-handed combat. Rings, punching bags and tatamis were at their disposal and Bellamy and Clarke finally made it a habit to train together rather than each other in their own corner. 125 years of deep sleep had definitely rusted their joints and eroded their reflexes. 

 

This privileged moment allowed them to evacuate their stress and stifle their tensions, to reconnect and relearn each other.

It was during one of them that Bellamy almost failed.

 

After long minutes of sword fighting, Clarke had finally succeeded in disarming him with a thrust that the young man had taught him a few days earlier. He had hastened to wipe the victorious smile off her beautiful face by dragging her to the ground, using a technique that the young woman had taught him that very morning.

 

And, at that very moment, as he held her under the weight of his body, his legs immobilized and disarmed in turn; at that very moment when the pride in her eyes and the smile on her lips had made him almost dizzier than the intense fight they had just finished; at that very moment, he had seen himself acted.

 

Bellamy had seen his mouth crushed against hers, devouring every inch of her sweet skin, mixing his essence with hers, melting into her whole body and finally uttering the words that threatened to surface every second of every hour of every day spent with him.

 

As their lips approached, magnetized by the same gravity that always pushed them towards each other, a single thought had succeeded in interrupting the young man's instincts.

 

_Echo..._

 

Bellamy had moved away with a suddenness that had destabilized Clarke.

 

Immediately, the warmth of the other's body, that cocoon of well-being and serenity that only the proximity of the other created, had evaporated. An incomparable emotion had seized the young woman. 

 

An unsustainable void. A burning desire. A roaring need.

Unfortunately, her companion had disappeared before she could confess what was in her heart and finally say the words that threatened to surface every second of every hour of every day she spent with him.

 

When he reappeared hours later, Clarke thought they would finally be able to discuss the moment they had shared. However, Bellamy had only one request. A question that froze her to the bone and added to the emotions that were accumulating in her a new feeling: guilt.

 

That night, Bellamy had asked to wake Echo.

 

This request, which he thought was simple and justified, had caused the most serious and intense of all their altercations.

 

Clarke had not wanted to admit the sick jealousy, bitter injustice and dull anger that gnawed at her to the memory of Echo's lips on his.

 

Bellamy didn't intend to reveal that one of the main reasons he wanted to wake the spy was that he couldn't think of anything else but Clarke.

 

Clarke in his arms.

 

Clarke moaning with pleasure under his caresses.

 

Clarke smiling at him.

 

Clarke whispering to him that she loved him too.

 

Clarke, Clarke, and Clarke again.

 

He didn't want to become -  _no_  - he wasn't a dishonest and unfaithful person.

 

This argument lasted for hours and hours. It had stirred up all the grudges of their previous conflicts - of  _all_  their conflicts.

 

With their fists closed, their shoulders stretched, their jaws clenched, their eyebrows frowned, they had thrown at each other all the accusations they thought they had previously forgiven themselves.

 

The moment Clarke had let Octavia convict Bellamy of treason, forcing him to fight in that arena.

The one where Bellamy made Madi the new Commander.

 

The moment Clarke decided to deviate from their original plan and decide to fight Octavia, then revealed their plans to McCreary.

 

The one where Bellamy betrayed her trust and left Clarke chained into that cell while he was bringing her worst nightmares to life.

 

He was more than willing to remind her that he knew exactly what such a betrayal was causing since she herself had put him in the same situation when Praimfaya threatened and that she had closed the doors of the Bunker in front of Octavia, his only family, his sister, his responsibility.

 

Clarke replied that his conception of a family had apparently changed in six years since he had made it clear to her that she herself was not part of it.

 

But how could she only be a part of it when all she was doing was leaving, turning her back on him and abandoning him? Like when she decided to stay in Polis with Lexa, like when she left him alone at Arkadia's gates, like when she sent him to spy on Mount Weather's entrails. Over and over and over again.

 

So Clarke asked if that was how he perceived their six years of separation as if she was abandoning him again.

 

**"Yes",**  Bellamy replied in a breath.

 

The young woman's heart had broken. So she broke his by accusing him of the only thing she had sworn to never blame him for.

 

While one of the first words she had stammered at him through the crappy radio that kept her company in the first days after Praimfaya was that he had nothing to feel guilty about leaving her here and that she was proud of him, here she was retorting that it was he who had left her for dead on a ruined planet. Without water. Without food. Without hope. Alone with memories, regrets, nightmares and an indefinable void.

 

**"Do you think I had a choice? All I ever wanted was to be up there with you - with you!"**  she corrected herself before adding:  **"All I want is to be part of this family!"**

 

Yet he had only listened to her very last advice, Bellamy shouted at her, totally shocked by her statements. He had listened to his head and saved those who could be saved, rather than his heart screaming to him to wait for her again, screaming at him to stay, even if it meant dying on Earth.

 

Because at that moment, that horrible moment that still haunted him today -  _131 years later!_  - and whose every detail was engraved in his memory, he would have preferred to follow her into the nothingness rather than survive the six years of guilt that had eaten him up in space. Without her latest advice, he would have chosen a hundred times to stay with her rather than leave her.

 

But no, she always had to be there, deciding who was going to live and who was going to die, playing Commander - Wanheda - giving advice and orders! And who was he to refuse the Princess' last wishes, who was nothing more than a pain in his ass since they first came to Earth?

 

Clarke's fury had increased when he mentioned the title that seemed to refuse to leave her, and then the nickname he had given her as soon as they arrived on Earth, pronounced this time with as much disgust as anger.

 

Under the influence of rage, she had put on the table all the insults she had not been able to throw at him when he was only a selfish and brainless rebel, ready to do anything stupid to save his skin. Shoot the chancellor? Take over the power? Prevent the Ark from coming down to Earth? Destroy Raven's radio? If she was a Princess, he was definitely the King of Assholes!

 

At the end of this exhausting duel of screams and tears, they stood a few centimeters apart, trembling with fury and passion. Flamboyant eyes, tight jaws, provocative and insatiable.

 

Then Bellamy had almost cracked again and barely held back from crossing the space between them to wrap his arms around her body and press his mouth against hers to taste all that fierceness, all that infuriated fury at its source.

 

Finally, when Bellamy's brown and burning eyes had left hers and drifted on her lips, Clarke had totally forgotten the primary reason for their argument. Until Bellamy moved away again and looked away before declaring, in a tone that had suffered no contradiction.

 

**"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll wake Echo."**

 

He had walked right past her without another word. This time, she had found nothing more to say to stop it. 


	4. Four

Clarke knew that these few weeks, as perfect and beneficial as they had been, could not last, but she would have liked these moments to last forever.

From now on, everything was going to change.

Bellamy would no longer be _her_ Bellamy.

Clarke could no longer afford to be _his_ Clarke.

Not when Echo's dark, sharp eyes would land on her, silently asking what kind of rights she thought she had on the heart of a man who obviously belonged to someone else.

_ Love is weakness. _

Clarke had muffled Lexa's words in a corner of her mind. She didn't want to hear them anymore. She wanted Monty's voice to resonate within her, not the old Heda's. She wanted to be better and do better. She could not afford to believe again in this nonsense mantra. Not when she now knew that only love had allowed her to survive all these years on Earth and had given her the strength to fight to save the people close to her.

So, she waited for Bellamy to do what he had to do, to wake up the woman he loved and chose, then vanished with Echo into a corner of the gigantic ship... She had no idea where they were, she just knew she hadn't crossed their path when she finally decided to leave her lair. They were not in the young man's room, nor on the main deck, nor anywhere Clarke had ventured. And she certainly didn't want to think about what they might be doing.

Then, without informing the young man of her decision, without even discussing it with him or asking for his opinion, she went to wake Madi.

It was not something that the old Clarke - the one who thought love was a weakness, that there were no good men, and that you had to do whatever was necessary to survive - would have done. That Clarke - _Wanheda_ \- would have done _anything_ to wake Madi last, anything to keep her out of important decisions, responsibilities, life and death dilemmas.

125 years old and Monty's last will later, Clarke was no longer the same. And this Clarke - who thought with her head, but also with her heart - needed her daughter near her, needed the unconditional love that only Madi had known how to offer her.

As Madi opened her pretty blue eyes and jumped into the arms of her foster mother from her glass coffin, Bellamy ended her relationship with Echo on the other side of the ship.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's short, forgive me. Longer parts will come soon and the next part tomorrow morning. And please, leave comments if you like it!


	5. Five

Holding Bellamy when she woke up made Echo realize that something was wrong.

**"What's going on?"** she asked.

His companion had then informed her of the fate of Monty and Harper, as well as the planet on which the spy had been born. Echo had taken the news with the stoicism that was her trademark before hesitating, then asking, weakly:

** "What else?" **

Of course, she had guessed. She had been able to read in his absent and guilty expression, in his clumsy and distant embrace. Echo had always had a gift for reading people. To decrypt him.

So he gently explained to her that, despite all his promises and hopes, things had changed when they returned to Earth, then again when they left their home planet, then again on this ship.

Ultimately, everything was different.

**"It's Clarke, isn't it?"** asked the young woman, moved but resigned.

Bellamy's heavy silence had answered in his place. Echo had tensed and moved back one step as if she suddenly understood that the person in front of her belonged to someone else.

In fact, she had always known it, had known how to read the feelings that bound them as soon as she could observe them together, long before they themselves finally realized them.

After all, hadn't she used both of them as blackmail, bargaining chips and a lever against each other? How many times had she brandished her blade under Clarke's throat to make Bellamy flinch? How many times had she threatened Bellamy's life to make Wanheda back down?

Burdened by guilt, the young man had tried to justify himself as best he could, stumbling on words, unable to explain why he could not tame this wild heart that seemed to decide for him for whom he was beating.

**"Nothing has happened yet. Echo, you're part of my family... I respect you and I... I will never stop loving you, but..."** he began, struggling with the words, embarrassed.

** "But you need her." **

He sighed, relieved that even in this difficult situation, Echo continues to understand him, continues to read through his intentions.

**"I understand,"** she said, formally forbidding the tears that were beginning to form in her throat and behind her eyes from flowing. **"I'd like to ask a favor if you agree."**

Bellamy had nodded, ready to do anything to ease the pain of the woman who had shared his life.

** "Can you wake Raven up?" **

At first surprised, Bellamy agreed and, accompanied by Echo, went to their friend to put an end to her cryo-sleep. It was not part of his plans, but he understood that his former partner needed the one she now considered a sister by her side. She had to go through the grief inflicted by the loss of Harper and Monty and the sadness caused by her break-up with him.

After hugging Raven, he let the two young women catch up a little and confide in each other and headed for the ship's cafeteria.

Now, he needed to find Clarke and talk to her. To heal the wounds he had inflicted on her during their fight and heal his own wounds. And if the upcoming discussion went in the direction he wanted, perhaps she would learn that he had ended his relationship with Echo. And depending on her reaction to the news, maybe tell her why he did it.

_ Maybe... _

Also, to say that finding Madi beside Clarke in their cafeteria had shaken him up was a euphemism. All his projects had been rocked by this discovery and the living reminder that Clarke was no longer just his Clarke. That the young woman was now a mother, that she had a daughter to look after and keep raising. A girl who, to make matters worse, now bore the title of Commander with Artificial Intelligence inserted in her neck, as well as the responsibility for the last shreds of humanity on her shoulders.

_ And all because of him. _

Clearly, there was more than one thing Bellamy and Clarke had to discuss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish English was my birth language but it's not. Please, leave some comments if you like it or just want to say Hi.


	6. Six

Also, for a few strange days, full of tension, embarrassed silences and deafening unsaid, the ship had only been populated by Clarke, Bellamy, Madi, Echo, Raven, and Jordan.

Then, one morning, during the breakfast they were all having together, Madi had asked to wake Gaia up. The girl wanted to continue her apprenticeship as Commander and learn how to master the flame.

As a result, they had decided not only to wake Gaia but also Jackson, because no one knew what the Fleimkepa's health would be like after almost losing her leg on the battlefield.

Clarke had hesitated for a minute to wake her own mother, but a long conversation with Raven had dissuaded her. It was on this occasion that the two young women finally reconciled.

After that, the atmosphere on the ship warmed up somewhat and, although things were very different from the few weeks after they woke up, Bellamy and Clarke managed to maintain a cordial and respectful understanding.

Of course, Clarke would never admit how much she missed the young man.

And Bellamy would not stand in the way of Clarke and Madi's relationship as they slowly relearned to reappropriate themselves, now that the voices of thirteen other people were echoing in the head of the new Heda.

For a few weeks, Clarke, Bellamy, Madi, Echo, Raven, Jordan, Gaia and Jackson had lived peacefully aboard Eligius.

Jackson and Raven were working side by side to better analyze the effects that the planet and its two suns would have on their metabolism and technology.

Echo and Gaia were helping Madi to train and embrace her role as Heda.

Jordan navigated from one group to another, helping as best he could and brought his enthusiasm, joy, good humor and surprising knowledge in many fields to all places.

Bellamy and Clarke, on the other hand, were doing their best to avoid each other.

Clarke, because all she wanted was Bellamy's happiness, and Bellamy seemed to have found it with Echo. Because being in the same room with the couple, despite the respectful distance they seemed to maintain between them in public, never failed to make her uncomfortable.

Bellamy, because, now that there were no more obstacles between him and what he wanted, he was petrified that the young woman did not share his feelings.

One evening, between two algae rations, Raven had asked to wake Shaw.

The young woman had stated that she was lonely. She had said that she had created strong bonds with him and that she missed him. The mechanic had also admitted that she was almost space sick after six years on the Ring and 125 years in cryo-sleep. Her feet itched to walk on the wild ground, her lungs demanded fresh air, her eyes a natural light. And because she wanted to land on this new planet as soon as possible, the pilot and scientist would be needed to do all the calculations and studies needed to prepare such a trip. 

Strangely enough, it was up to Bellamy and Clarke to choose who to wake up from cryo. 

And if until now they had always been able to get along - except in the Echo case, that went without saying - they had met their first real disagreement with Raven's request.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have you seen Jason's teasing about season 6? It smells like trailer...   
> By the way, translation is hell and each of your comment and kudos are a kiss on my French words.   
> Thanks!


	7. Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, the trailer wrecked me yesterday and each time I opened my laptop I was ending on Youtube typing "the 100 trailer season 6". So I was not in French->English translation's mood. I was in a "watch the trailer a hundred times than rewatch the trailer a hundred times IN SLOW MOTION than rerewatch all the reactions to the trailer I could find than rerererewatch the trailer for seeking ANY BELLARKE HINT". 
> 
> So, as you already guessed, I AM EXCITED BITCHES!
> 
> And of course, I hope you liked this part, other chapters will come like really soon. Please Comment&Kudos and if you have nothing to say about my poor writing, you can always say that you loved the trailer (or hated it maybe, but it seems impossible).

Clarke, in addition to having complete faith in Raven and her judgment, trusted Shaw. The pilot was the only one among Eligius' crew who wanted to show clemency to her when they succeeded in taking her prisoner, she recalled to Bellamy.

When Diyoza and McCreary tried to torture her, interrogating her for hours before subjecting her to the ordeal of the electric collar, only Shaw had tried to intervene on her behalf and rescue her.

Bellamy certainly didn't need that reminder. He could never forget the moment he laid eyes on Clarke, after six years of thinking she was dead. He could never forget the moment he spotted her silhouette through the Rover's windshield and saw the blue of her eyes glistening brighter than a thousand stars in the light of the vehicle's headlights. He could never forget the emotion that seized him that night, nor the sharp pain that had devastated his chest and emptied the air from his lungs: that of his broken heart that had started to beat again.

Clarke had taken advantage of his silence to continue to argue in favor of Shaw.

Shaw, who had set up a hacking operation to avoid bombing Polis' survivors when the Bunker opened.

Shaw, who had been the one Raven and Echo trusted.

Shaw, who had fought alongside them and saved the members of SpaceKru.

Shaw, who refused to fly the shuttle when the war was raging, despite the torture McCreary had inflicted on him.

Shaw, who had finally offered them the cryo-sleep solution.

Obviously, the pilot had integrated into their group and had become a quality asset.

Yet Bellamy refused to see this reality. Throughout Clarke's speech, he had remained silent, his fists clenched, his shoulders stretched and his brown eyes fixed on her. He was determined to stay true to his convictions.

For him, waking Shaw meant waking up other members of Eligius' crew.

Wake up more strangers than he would claim necessary to fly the ship or settle on the planet.

Waking people like Diyoza, whom Bellamy refused to trust.

The young leader refused to face such danger.

Despite all Clarke's arguments, he remained stubborn in his beliefs and suddenly the young woman had the impression that she had found the arrogant and rebellious young man from their arrival on Earth, which had been both an immense relief and an unwavering irritation.

The discussion had finally spiraled into an argument until Clarke burst into excitement and nerves:

**"When are you going to stop refuting each of my remarks without even listening to them? It seems like you don't even hear what I'm trying to tell you!"**

What Bellamy had suddenly snapped:

**"Sorry, Princess, but it's hard to focus on what you say when you're facing me and all I can think about is how much I want to kiss you!"**


	8. Eight

Clarke's mouth had opened wide under the shock of this revelation coming out of nowhere and she had watched Bellamy's brown irises slowly tint themselves with the light of awareness.

By the time he realized what he had just said, his features had darkened under embarrassment and regret. Any form of anger had completely left the young woman. Only deep sadness remained, because while she looked at Bellamy and waited for him to say something, anything, that could restore her long-overdue hope, what she was now reading on her companion's face was throwing her into turmoil.

**"What did you just say?"**  she asked, her own barely recognizable voice, broken whispering.

The young man immediately put a hand in his hair and looked up to the ceiling as if he were looking for an answer, before answering:

**"Nothing at all, I... Forget about that... It's not important, okay?"**

Yet for Clarke at this very moment, nothing seemed more important than the words he had spoken and the hidden meaning behind it, if there was indeed any hidden meaning.

**"You regret it?"**  she asked.

It was more of a statement than a question. Obvious remorse could be seen on Bellamy's face. He hesitated before answering:

**"I don't want you to... I don't want things to change between us, Clarke."**

He had said that like prayer is whispered and the young woman's heart started to bleed. What she was about to say would definitely change things.

**"Well, maybe I need them to change."**

He had opened his eyes, waiting for the next step.

**"I can't take this anymore, Bellamy..."**

She had shown with her hand the space that now separated them. She had wanted to refer to the distance that hurt her so much and the desire and need that consumed her every day. He had interpreted that she could no longer bear their interactions, their relationship, their proximity. She thought she was finally confessing her feelings to him when he thought she was rejecting him.

**"Did you mean what you said?"**  she had asked with a face he had taken for disgust while she was simply terrified by his answer.

At that point, he had nothing more to lose. He wouldn't go back. He could only move forward. He wanted to be more for Clarke. He wanted to be everything to Clarke, just as she was everything to him.

Bellamy then rubbed a hand on his face and confessed:

**"God, of course, I mean it, Clarke. You look beautiful. Smart. Selfless. Passionate. I stopped understanding what you were telling me the very moment you started raising your voice. Because at that moment..."**

He had raised his hand to illustrate what he said:

**"The fire in your eyes"** , he had declared by passing an inch on his frowned eyebrows,  **"the red of your cheeks"** , he said, letting his fingers caress his cheekbones,  **"your breath"** , he whispered as he touched his throat,  **"and even the beating of your heart"** , he whispered, finally putting his hand on it,  **"I can no longer hear myself think, let alone concentrate,"**  he finally added.

The young man's palm, placed on her skin, had reminded her of that distant moment when she had told him that he was the heart when he had replied that she was the head. However, she no longer wanted to be like that.

She wanted to be the spirit and the soul, the logic and the spontaneity. She wanted to be complete.

Just like six years in space had made Bellamy whole.

Six years away from her. 

_Six years with Echo._

She had felt tears surging behind her eyelids, but refused to let them flow. Deep inside, a storm of emotions was unleashing and she didn't know which one to let go first. She didn't recognize the man standing in front of her.

In his eyes, she could read as if in an open book all his vulnerability, all his honesty... but what did he do with the woman he had bonded with and who actually lived on this ship with them, with him?

Finally, a deep disappointment and bitter anger seized her and Clarke took a step back and asked, her voice broken:

**"How can you do this to me? How can you do this to us?"**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes are not out of the woods yet. I love some awkward tension and misunderstanding due to miscommunication.


	9. Nine

Bellamy had dropped his hand, devastated by the pain he could see on Clarke's face and the way she rejected him as if he was hurting her at that very moment. As if declaring his feelings and desire for her was a betrayal.

_ Betrayal of their friendship, perhaps? _

How could he have misinterpreted the hints she was sending him so badly?

When did he think she shared the same feelings that he could no longer deny?

**"I... Clarke... I'm sorry, I..."** he had stammered, ready to do anything to go back in time and take back the words that seemed to have hurt her so much.

If she wanted a platonic friendship, he would give that to her. Hell, it would be difficult - _to be honest, it would probably hurt him more than all the punches he had ever received, and that was an understatement_ \- but if it was the only way to keep her close to him, then so be it.

**"Sorry?"** had asked Clarke, interrupting the desperate course of his thoughts.

So much venom and rage flowed from the young woman's voice that he had taken a step back. He felt the misunderstanding on his own face and could only continue to stare at her, waiting for the words that would explain her reaction, as she continued, implacable:

** "Why don't you save your apologies for Echo?" **

**"Echo?"** he asked, looking lost.

Usually, he could pride himself on understanding Clarke without even having to talk to her or look at her. The posture of her body, the movement of her hands, a nod of her head, a raising of her eyebrows, a few half words, and _he knew._ There, he was speechless, unable to grasp a single piece of her logic.

**"Echo,"** he had tried, **"would understand"** , unconsciously making things worse. **"She knows that... I..."**

He had wandered through his disordered brown curls with one hand, more lost than ever.

_ What did she want to hear? What else could he say? _

If exposing his feelings in front of her was already causing her to freak out, then confessing his deepest emotions was certainly not on the agenda.

**"I don't know, Clarke,"** had he finally confessed. **"** Echo **won't be a problem..."**

If the spy's idea was all that held Clarke back, he had to try to explain to her that she wouldn't be an obstacle to their relationship. If she wanted to, no one would even be an obstacle to their relationship.

**"If that's what's bothering you, Echo doesn't need to know. No one needs to know. We can keep this between us as long as you want,"** he proposed, clumsy.

Clarke's face had shut down even more - if only possible - and her blue eyes had shone with a new and even more powerful and destructive rage.

**"Are you kidding?"** had spit out the young woman.

_ What else had he said? _

He had raised his hands in the air as if to surrender. This conversation was not going in the direction he wanted at all. He had dreamed dozens - no, thousands of times - of the moment he would finally reveal his feelings to Clarke, and never, no, never, his fantasies had ever taken this path full of anger and resentment.

** "Because you think I'm that kind of woman, Bellamy? What do you think I am?" **

Did he think she was an easy woman? Did the memories of what she had been through with Finn pursue her here and tarnish her reputation?

Clarke had walked towards his friend, threatening.

** "Do you have such low respect for me that you would relegate me to this position? Barely worthy of your attention and time? Is that all I am to you? A shame that must be hidden?" **

She had taken another step and interrupted Bellamy when he started stammering:

** "What? What? Clarke, what are you talking about, never... I don't..." **

** "Do you think I'll even agree to _share_ you?" **

She had uttered these last words as if they were an insult as if this concept alone had been enough to burn her tongue. Nevertheless, the young man's mind had finally caught up with reality and Clarke's words had soaked into his mind.

This time, Bellamy hadn't let himself be cut off:

** "Wait, what? What?" **

His question seemed to catch Clarke off guard and she remained silent for the time he was continuing:

** "Clarke, what are you talking about? I never considered the fact that you have to _share_ me. I... Echo and I broke up weeks ago, as soon as she woke up from cryo. I never...." **

The blonde's face had suddenly lost all anger, softening, but keeping a wounded and embarrassed expression. Her cheeks were tinged with a pretty pink and immediately the young man's fingers started to twitch, impatient and eager to caress her skin.

Bellamy's hands had moved by themselves in response to the young woman's distress and one of them had come to stroke her arm in tender and absent movements back and forth. Clarke hadn't backed away from the contact. The blue of her eyes had fixed itself in the brown of those of her companion when he whispered:

**"Clarke... You're everything to me. If you want me in your life, you only have to say one word and I will be..."** He had stopped, then corrected: **"I am yours."**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo the first episode of season 6 was aired this morning at WonderCon and of course, I didn't want to be spoiled and OF COURSE, I searched all on Instagram like a crazy fangirl and NOW I'M SPOILED. Yay.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this part ;) Also, I promised there would be just one other part when the would dance awkwardly around each other and this was it, now we can move to the fun part!


	10. Ten

Clarke had quietly let her cheek rest in the palm that Bellamy had put there without noticing. Her heart had tightened and she had closed her eyes, overwhelmed by the emotions she could read in the young man's eyes.

Everything she had ever wanted was standing right in front of her.

If she wished, she had only one word to say, one step to take and her wildest and most beautiful dreams would come true.

An unbearable terror had overtaken her and she had laid her own hand on Bellamy's, in a desperate attempt to seek the comfort and warmth he always offered her.

**"I'm afraid..."** Clarke had whispered, her eyes still closed, and so low that if she hadn't been the only person in his entire universe, he wouldn't have heard her.

**"I'm here,"** he had replied in the same tone. **"I'm here,"** he had repeated with an assurance that had made her reopen her eyelids. **"I'm not going anywhere. I'm here. I'm here."**

Clarke had long since given up on understanding how Bellamy could read her like in an open book.

How could he know that what she was afraid of was losing him too?

How could he know that she was terrified at the thought of letting him love her and loving him back?

How could he have guessed that, like everything she once cherished in this world - her father, her freedom, Wells, Finn, Lexa, her friends, the time she had wanted to spend with them on the ring, her mother's health and even Madi's innocence - she was afraid he would also slip her through her fingers?

And how did he always manage to find the words that would certainly reassure her?

** "Clarke..." **

The way he pronounced her first name had always, as long as her memories lasted, triggered all kinds of emotions in her. Because, she saw it in his eyes and heard it in his voice, his first name was constantly charged with things he never dared to tell her.

I _'m sorry...._

_ I was stupid.... _

_ I want you... _

_ I love you.... _

And because she too was too shy - or stubborn - to admit these things out loud, to tell him that she was sorry, that she had been stupid, that she wanted it, that she loved him....

She had simply looked into the warm brown of the young man's eyes and said:

** "Bellamy..." **

_ I forgive you.... _

_ I've made mistakes too... _

_ I want you.... _

_ I love you.... _

Bellamy didn't need any more to cross the distance between them. The trembling of his hands had immediately eased under this initially light and hesitant touch. Then, a whole new frenzy had spread when the young woman responded to his kiss and half-opened her lips to bind them to his.

For a few moments, perhaps hours, or only a few minutes, the two of them had lost themselves in these new and so long desired sensations.

There, a tongue that gently caressed a lip. Here, a tooth that slightly nicked the skin. Here and there, hands coming and going on feverish bodies.

Until finally, both were about to implode under the weight of a desire too incendiary to remain bearable.

So, in a reality so blurred as to resemble a dream, the clothes had come off, the jackets had fallen off, the trousers had been removed and the underwear had disappeared, until only they were left.

Bellamy and Clarke.

Finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was a reference to the 100's book, who saw it? (what? I read it cause I needed bellarke okay?)


	11. Eleven

To brag that their first time was incredible would have been lying. 

Because Clarke was in too much of a hurry to waiting to feel him inside her. Because Bellamy was too nervous to keep up the distance. 

Because after six years of abstinence for her and 125 years of sleep for both of them, it was like losing their virginity all over again. 

Because despite Bellamy's extreme gentleness, Clarke hadn't been able to prevent the pain. 

Because despite his desire that this moment lasts an eternity, Bellamy hadn't been able to hold on to his passion for too long.

Yet, none of this mattered. That they were so hesitant than their hands had continued to shake in each of their contacts, that the wait had been so long that the result had not lived up to any of their expectations, all this had not mattered to them.

Because finally, they were really together.

Also, when a confused Bellamy had pulled out and lay down beside a slightly embarrassed Clarke, neither of them had undone the embrace that bound their fingers. They had caught their breath in silence, not knowing what to say or how to act, until Clarke said:

** "Can we say I won that fight, then?" **

Bellamy had laughed and turned in her direction on their makeshift bed, stood up on an elbow and watched Clarke with amazement before asking:

** "What do you mean?" **

**"Well,"** had explained the young woman, biting her lower lip to hold a smile, **"if what just happened between us is your final argument, I think I clearly beat you."**

**"Do you think so?"** Bellamy had asked, smirking.

He had leaned towards her and kissed her again. Their kiss had deepened but had remained languid and sweet. The big smile that Clarke couldn't help but display had interrupted both of them.

**"I know what you're trying to prove, but it's too late. I won. I'll go wake Shaw....as soon as I can find my clothes,"** she warned.

Bellamy's laughter had rung in her ears again and she had felt it inside her, warming the air in her lungs, boiling the blood in her veins, soothing her heart and mind. She had decided at that very moment that she would now live for the sole purpose of hearing this sound more often.

With the tip of his nose, he had nuzzled her cheek, then her ear before whispering:

** "If I knew it was your only reason to have sex with me, I would have taken more time to convince you." **

A myriad of shivers had run through her skin when the young man had finished his sentence by gently nibbling at her throat. She had briefly inhaled and slipped a hand through his dark curls to bring his face back in front of hers before answering:

** "Fortunately, there are still more than 400 people to get out of the cryo for you to make up for it, so..." **

He had smiled at the prospect of hundreds of similar moments to come and had found nothing to respond to the sheer joy that threatened to swallow him up. He then simply crushed his mouth again on Clarke's, enjoying the sweet taste of her lips, the warm sensation of her tongue slipping against his own. 

And, as always, when Bellamy offered her something from him, the young woman could not resist asking him for more. 

More of his skin against her own.

More of his hands on her body.

More of his lips on her. 

Playful, the young man had broken their embrace when his hands finally reached Clarke's intimacy and whispered:

** "I thought we were supposed to go wake Shaw up?" **

His partner's laughter had reverberated before she whispered:

**"After 125 years of sleep, he can wait a few more- "**

Her words had been lost on Bellamy's lips, who immediately resumed the movement of his hands on her body.


	12. Twelve

That's how it all started, almost three weeks earlier.

This is how Bellamy and Clarke came to this precise moment: the young man's mouth opens on Clarke's right breast, his tongue wrapped around her tender pink nipple and the palm of his left hand plated on her other breast. There was no need to say, the young man had clearly improved since their first time. 

In fact, he had won several victories since the beginning of their relationship. 

If Clarke had finally woken Shaw up, then another person from Eligius. She had also got Miller, Abby, and Murphy to stay asleep. 

As for Bellamy, he had won some battles that had resulted in the awakening of Emori and Indra. However, when some had suggested waking Octavia, Marcus, and Niyalah, he had shown enough conviction - _especially for the latter_ \- to keep them in cryo-sleep. 

If they had kept a scoreboard - _which neither of them did, of course_ \- this result left them tied with five defeats and five victories each.

However, this was absolutely not the reason why neither Bellamy nor Clarke wanted to abdicate in their dispute over Colonel Diyoza.

_Not at all._

Clarke tried to recover the thread of his thoughts beyond the flow of sensations caused by Bellamy's tongue on this so sensitive place of her body and stammering:

** "Di-Diyoza will be able to guide us to this new planet. I-I know she keeps information about Eligius III. It can be useful." **

Bellamy smiled. Clarke felt more than she saw the crease in those lips she loved so much.

** "Diyoza is six months and 125 years pregnant", he replied. "We don't know about the effects of cryo on her pregnancy. No Diyoza, without a doctor capable of handling a premature delivery, so no Diyoza without Ab..." **

Clarke shut him off by kissing him wildly. The young man moaned under the assault, surprised and his partner took advantage of his surprise to deepen their kiss without delay.

She could never get tired of Bellamy's soft but firm mouth contact on hers, nor of the taste of his tongue, which caressed hers with an equal and reassuring passion. He wanted her as much as she wanted him, and each of his caresses reminded her of this simple and yet vertiginous truth.

The young man got lost in Clarke's embrace. His thoughts faded as soon as Clarke's hands began to slide gently from his brown curls to his muscular back, then from his back to his butt. His logic abandoned him when she pulled on the fabric of his pants and moaned in frustration. His head began to turn when she bit his lip to signal her annoyance.

Immediately, Clarke took advantage of his weakness and rushed into the breach. With a skillful movement of her basin, she pivoted and changed their positions. Suddenly, she found herself straddling Bellamy. Without giving him time to come to his senses, she resumed their kiss, this time with more intensity, more desire. The young man's senses were ignited at the same time as the skin where she passed her hands: his cheeks, his neck, his chest, his stomach, up to the buckle of his belt that she undid with an expert gesture, too fast for him to stop it - _if he had only wanted it._

When the young woman's lips followed the same path as her fingers, Bellamy lost track of the time and space in which they were, until the very reason for their argument. Within seconds, his clothes were almost ripped off until only his underwear remained: a black boxer discreetly stamped with the Eligius logo. As for her, she had been stripped of her clothes earlier and was wearing only a provocative blue shorty - far too sexy to come from the ship's official cupboards, but Bellamy suspected the young woman was improving her underwear with fabric found here and there for the sole purpose of making him lose his mind.

Once again, Clarke's wet and provocative mouth walked the path of his throat, chest, abdominals, and finally lost itself on the V of his obliques and licked their way to the elastic band of the garment. When he felt her delicate fingers passing under the seam and starting to lower the fabric, he emitted a _**"Clarke"**_ halfway between a plea and a warning.

**"Diyoza and her baby will be fine,"** she said confidently. **"I am well qualified to take care of them."**

Clarke's warm breath on his lower abdomen caused Bellamy to shiver and he tried one last time to hold her wrists when she proceeded to continue undressing him. He knew he should have added something, countered his argument with an intelligent remark, but between her lips so close to him and her increasing desire, he couldn't concentrate anymore. 

She glanced up at him and he looked into her eyes, immersed himself in the incredible sapphire of his sloes, which reminded him both of the infinite depths of the oceans, and the unfathomable ether of the sky of their native planet. Because that was Clarke for him: a taste of mystery, a taste of infinity, a taste of impalpable, but always a taste of returning home.

**"You don't trust me?"** she finally asked, incredibly vulnerable.

The fragility of his partner at that moment caught him off guard.

**"Clarke,"** Bellamy whispered in the same tone, desperate for reassurance. **"Of course I trust you, I-"**

His words were strangled in his throat and a moan of pleasure replaced them when the young woman's mouth closed on his penis. He should have read in the exaggerated innocence of her gaze, in her delicate voice, and certainly in the little satisfied smile that had stretched her lips before she closed them over him. Lost in his contemplation of the young woman, he had not even noticed that she had finished taking off his boxer earlier.

His protests died at the same time as his last resistances as Clarke became more and more adventurous and reckless. He could never get tired of the delicious sensations she offered him during their embraces. Nor could he ever miss the pleasure he himself could give her. He could never become exhausted from exploring every square inch of her soft skin. They would never discourage themselves from discovering and learning from each other.

When Clarke's mouth around him began to be too insistent and other moans died on his lips among the senseless words he whispered to her, Bellamy gently dragged her to him.

**"Are you already forfeiting?"** she asked, teasingly.

**"In your dreams,"** he replied before making her smirk disappear with a passionate kiss.

She hummed with pleasure in his mouth and languorously joined her tongue to his. He let his hands run through her body with eagerness, from the generous shapes of her chest to the harmonious curves of her hips. Like him several minutes earlier, she escaped into their embrace and barely realized that he was taking off the last layer of her clothing. It was only when his long and determined fingers slowly drew the slit of her labia that Clarke detached her mouth from his own, barely holding back her cry of pleasure.

This time, he did not give her time to retaliate anything, nor to think about another argument that would divert him from his objective, he put his lips directly on his clitoris and felt her tremble in his hands. With a stroke of his tongue, he made her scream louder and felt her hands plunge into his brown curls, a sign that she was already getting closer to orgasm.

As their relationship lasted, Bellamy had discovered a Clarke who was hypersensitive to every move he made. A Clarke who never hesitated to vocalize her pleasure and needs, which he truly enjoyed. During their embraces, she always reacted in a delicious way to everything he did. However, this time, she had to be much more excited than she let it look a moment earlier to be so sensitive to his caresses already.

Another movement with the tip of his tongue caused the young woman's hips to come off the bed slightly and he put one of his hands on her pelvis to hold her firmly on the mattress. With an absent but tender gesture, Clarke tied his fingers to his own and he briefly lifted his head to watch as her other hand hung the pillow behind her. He smiles, satisfied, but buries his face between her thighs before she can notice him and get distracted.

It was only after a few minutes, when her pleas became louder and louder, that he finally obeyed and put his index finger into the lair of her vagina. She tensed with pleasure under the touch and her messy words were lost in her cries of pleasure.

** "Bellamy, I need... Again..." **

Her desperate whispers ringed at his eardrums as if she whispered them directly in his ear and he felt faltering when a wave of desire took hold of him without warning. He pressed his pelvis against the mattress in a desperate attempt at friction before adding a second finger.

Very quickly - _too quickly_ \- he felt the young woman tighten and pulsate around his index and middle finger and began to suck her clitoris while she let herself be engulfed by an intense and blinding orgasm.

No longer able to hold on, he barely gave her time to recover, slipped his large warm hands along her legs, up to her thighs and hips before pulling her to him with a determined movement. Clarke wrapped her legs around him and her arms around the young man's neck before sealing her mouth against his in a burning kiss that took both of their breath away.

She broke the contact of their lips when Bellamy entered her with a strong stroke, tearing out a cry of pleasure from her. He muffled his own moan in the hollow of his partner's neck and his warm breath on her skin caused her long and uncontrollable chills. With his fingertips, Bellamy grazed the traces of her quivering, triggering dozens more in his path.

For almost a minute, they remained still and intrinsically bound, savoring this intimate contact. Bellamy let both his hands and lips wander over Clarke's body, eager to explore every corner, every curve, every secret. His palms ran with tenderness but desire her sides, chest, throat, and face, before getting lost in the blond curls of her hair while his mouth wandered, tempting in the hollow of her ear, her neck, her throat, then persuasive on her collarbones and until her chest when his tongue taunted her nipple before closing up his lips there.

At this, Clarke seemed to wake up from the trance into which her previous orgasm had immersed her. She held back her whimper, but not the uncontrollable movement of her pelvis against Bellamy's, nor the way her vagina contracted around his penis. This unexpected contact almost caused him to lose the control he was struggling to maintain and he trembled slightly above her. 

The young woman did not waste a second and regained the upper hand - in every sense of the word. Without breaking their embrace, she tipped their two bodies to the side, then slipped over Bellamy. She drowned the young man's possible protests in a deep and passionate kiss, even though he was far from rebelling.

Completely swallowed up by Clarke's warmth over him, lost in the wedding dance of their lips, devastated by the languor of her hands along his body, destroyed by the ardor of her tongue over his own, Bellamy could hardly remember where he started and where she ended. They exulted in the exhilarating feeling of their perfectly nested bodies, in the pristine impression of being one. Until Clarke started moving and Bellamy's world exploded around him in a thousand different emotions. 

Blinded, he scattered in a tornado of feelings that was stirring around them, trying to grasp here and there the evanescent snippets of his unconditional love, his irrevocable adoration, his incandescent desire for her. For Clarke. For the only woman who had ever been able to complete him in this way, his perfect half, his other half, his soulmate.

The young woman raised herself up above him and placed her warm palms on his chest to use as a support as the speed and intensity of her movements increased. Bellamy could only stand the distance for a few seconds and lifted himself up, glued his chest against hers to better feel her heartbeat and her sagging breath; wrapped his arms around her to better stroke her buttocks, lower back, her spine; rolled his hands around her neck, slipped his fingers into her now sweaty hair, stuck his mouth against hers in a kiss made clumsy by the fever which animated both of them. 

They merged into this perfect symbiosis that could only define them. When Bellamy gently bit Clarke's lower lip and a heat wave set her body on fire, she moaned loudly. Her cry echoed on the metal walls of the room and the walls of her intimacy pulsed powerfully around him. A loud sigh escaped the young man, who let himself be caught up in the force of his pleasure, broke and scattered under the intensity of his own orgasm. Their groans mingled as they hunted together the last fragments of their simultaneous acme. The young woman exulted by guessing her first name on the young man's lips in the hollow of her ear, whispered with a devotion that transcended her and moved her to tears in this almost unreal moment. 

They remained there, still and intertwined, until they both regained their breathing. It was only when Bellamy lifted her up slightly to pull out and lie her down beside him that Clarke noticed that silent tears were gently flowing down her cheeks. She closed her eyelids when Bellamy put his hand on her cheek and lovingly wiped away the drops of water that were slipping without her agreement.

If Clarke had ever been told that a human body could contain so many tears, she certainly wouldn't have believed it. She had shed what seemed like thousands of teardrops. Cries of sadness, pain, anger, disappointment, loneliness, despair, abandonment. She had wept so much and so much that she was sure she had used up all the water that her ocean eyes could hold.

However, she had never cried out of happiness. She had never shed those tears that come from the devastating fire of an indefinable love, from that joy that springs directly from the heart, spreads slowly but surely like a bright and blinding sun warming everything in its path. The same happiness that disoriented her now, blinded her and submerged her until she finally exploded into thousands of sparks. Sparks that now ran on the skin of her cheeks, clung to her eyelashes and eyelids that she refused to open out of fear of breaking the spell. 

** "Clarke..." **

Again, her name pronounced with such sweetness, as one unpacks a fragile gift, as one picks an ephemeral flower. But this time articulated by known lips, a familiar tongue, a beloved voice. And always, these words that they still didn't say, neither one nor the other, but always reflected in each of their caresses, their breaths, their looks.

She opened her eyes and immediately met the warm brown of Bellamy's sloes directly fixed in her own.

God, she loved that color. This dark, liquid chocolate, punctuated with hazelnut and caramel. This simple and yet so intense brown that reminded him without any mistake of this planet she missed so much. The trees, their massive trunks, their knotty branches. The earth, the mountains, and the rivers, this ground always vibrating under her feet. And sometimes, when his eyes were glowing with worry as they are now: the night, a deep and calm night, a sky full of stars and hopes. 

Faced with the silent fears of his irises, she drew a shy smile, weak reinsurance. An "I'm fine, don't worry" of her own accord, before whispering:

** "Happy tears..." **

She watched the anguish fade from his gaze and offered him a real smile when it disappeared completely from his eyes to give way to the tenderness mixed with the fervor that usually colored his irises when he looked at her. Tenderness mixed with a fervor that usually made her uncomfortable, aware that she didn’t deserve this devotion, this perpetual attention. 

**"I have the impression that we are even this time,"** she said, looking away to lighten the sudden electric atmosphere.

It was the first time they lost the thread of their argument, the first time they forgot the primary motive for their embrace, the first time the act became more important than the game until it was completely erased. 

Bellamy didn't answer anything and Clarke felt the warm breath, which he probably held back without noticing, escaping him and tickling her neck and cheek. The pressure of the young man's palm on her face made her head turn and she looked into his gaze again. The glow she found there made her hold her breath with the light words she was about to say, just long enough to let him whisper:

** "I love you." **

He said it as one announces absolute certainty, as one declares a truth, as one establishes a fact and Clarke's heart went wild in her chest.

**"I think I've loved you since forever,"** he added without taking his eyes off her. **"Sometimes I feel like I love you from the very moment I saw you, the very moment I lowered the lever and opened the shuttle door... Do you remember?"**

She gave a smile. She could never forget the slick and proud Bellamy who had made her first days on Earth full of rage and frustration.

** "Sometimes I look at you and I see the Princess from our first few hours on the ground. I find it hard to imagine that almost 132 years have passed since these first memories were made..." **

One hundred and thirty-two years. Take the six years Clarke had spent away from Bellamy, take those 2199 days, similar to an eternity of solitude, and multiply them by twenty-two. 22 eternities spent asleep, so close, but yet so far away. Separated. Always separated. The pain of his absence caught Clarke's attention, still vivid, even after all this time, and Bellamy had to read it on her face because he snuggled up to her and whispered in her hair:

**"Hey, it's all right. I'm here."**

Because it was true. He was there. She felt him against her, could hear his heartbeat where she had put her ear, could smell his woody scent, could listen to his calm and steady breathing, could wander her fingers over his skin and experience every sensation she caused him, from the shivers that ran through his body to the shudders that were wavering from within him. He was there. He was there.

She fought for a few minutes with herself, in a silence that was only broken by their breaths and the rustle of Bellamy's palm, which gently stroked her back in absent and already self-gestures. She fought against her shame, against her fears and doubts, those who prevented her from uttering the words that danced on the tip of her tongue but refused to come out despite all her efforts. Finally, she tried:

** "Bellamy, I- I-" **

Defeated, she let the words die in her throat, unable to go further, to go all the way. As always, her companion understood her half-worldly and murmured to her in a voice that was now drowsy:

** "You don't have to answer right away. We have all the time in the world...." **

The tension on her shoulders immediately eased and he tightened her more close to him before whispering:

** "Now go to sleep. Diyoza can wait until tomorrow." **

She grabbed the blanket lying on the side of the bed with one hand and brought it back onto their two intertwined bodies. When she rested her head on Bellamy's chest, he was already asleep and, in the reassuring embrace of his arms, she joined him almost immediately in a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 100 Kudos! I can't believe it! Love you guys, I hope this chapter was enough of a gift for thanking you all.


	13. Thirteen

Finally, Clarke won their duel in their next round, surprising Bellamy in the morning and coming out victorious. They woke Diyoza up.

Other days passed, other decisions had to be made and among them, the most important one, that of descending to this unknown planet.

Bellamy categorically refused to stay on the ship while Clarke and a small team of their friends went to explore the surface. He made it a point to win this argument, sending Clarke to Heaven more times than she could count them.

So, the young man was part of this expedition, which went smoothly and led to a new decision, to set up their temporary camp and move the other inhabitants of the ship there. The one of waking the other 350 souls from their cryogenic sleep.

It was decided that they would be awakened in waves and sent to the planet in groups of 35 people after a complete check-up on the ship and an assessment of their skills and psychological profiles. After all, if there were any other McCreary or Vinson among them, they might as well know it right away.

This time, when Bellamy realized that Clarke would be part of the return trip to the mother ship and would stay there for ten weeks to help her mother and Jackson, he also figured out right away that there was no point in arguing.

She had not yet explained her decision that he already knew it was a necessary evil, a required separation. She, up there to prepare the descent of the surviving grounders. He, down here to supervise their arrival, integrate them into the group, assign them their daily tasks and start building their lives on the surface.

He understood it, but that didn’t prevent him from making the conversation worse, from seeking conflict, from escalating their argument with the sole purpose of pinning Clarke against the wall of their cabin inside the transport ship and kissing her until she lost her mind.

When he felt her cringe under the caress of his tongue against hers, when he guessed her quivering between his fingers and the desire in her sighs, he turned her over, quickly took off her pants, accompanied by her underwear, lowered his own clothes as she slightly spread her legs and instinctively bent over, thus offering him the curving of both her hips and her butt, then he took possession of her right there and now.

The cry of pleasure she uttered when he entered her resonated to the inside of him and animated him with a passion rarely - even never - experienced. Each movement of his hips against Clarke's caused the young woman to moan louder and each of the cries she struggled to hold back caused him to penetrate her more deeply, more intensely.

A multitude of emotions stormed beneath the surface, giving their embrace a bitter-sweet taste. The fierceness was mixed with the anger, which itself was mixed with the adoration he felt for the young woman. Abysmal despair tinged every feeling, nevertheless raised by an absolute trust.

_Stay_ , he begged her every time his hands moved. They had got lost under her shirt and were now massaging her generous chest and erect nipples.

_Don’t go away_ , he asked, biting and sucking her ear, her neck, her shoulder.

_Don't leave me_ , he demanded every time he jerked his hips into hers.

Until he finally bottomed out, touching her cervix and snatching a sound moaning accompanied by praises to make him lose his mind, _"yes"_ , _"Bellamy"_ , _"again"_ repeated with a fervency that he willingly gave her back.

A few seconds later, she tensed completely between his arms, a statue of pleasure, held back her breath while the orgasm ravaged her, taking Bellamy in her wake and leaving both of them dazed and stunned.

Clarke couldn’t remember how they dressed again, or when Bellamy's dark facade cracked under the anguish of their upcoming separation, or when she finally cowered on her toes before putting her arms around his neck and holding him in her arms. All she knew at that moment was that she would have given anything to soothe the young man's trembling shoulders, everything to dry out the tears that refused to flow from his brown eyes and gave those disarming shine to his sloe, a mixture of sadness and torment.

**"I will call you every day,"** she promised in her neck.

She felt him nodding weakly and tightening his grip.

**"This time, I’ll be on the other side of the radio to answer you,"** he replied.

Clarke froze before gently releasing himself to stare at him. This is a subject she had wanted to discuss hundreds of times with him, never knowing where to start.

_Remember when you asked me how I managed to survive alone all that time and I told you I wasn't alone? Of course, Madi helped me a lot, but it was you who pushed me to keep going. It's thinking of you that made me get up every morning. It was imagining you that made me endure loneliness. It was talking to you every day that kept me hopeful and sane. Even if the radio remained silent. Even though I didn't know if you were receiving my messages._

That's what she should have said. However, how can we admit something of such importance to someone to whom we can't yet say a simple "I love you"?

**"How do you know?"** she asked, already guessing the answer.

**"Madi told me in order to make me realize that you cared - that you still care about me,"** he confessed, but he didn't seem to believe it.

**"Bellamy,"** she whispered, taking his face in the cup of her hands and stroking his dark beard with her fingertips. **"Of course, I care about you. I-"**

This time, the words were coming out, they had to.

** "I... I lo-" **

Bellamy stopped her with a kiss and the confession died in the union of their mouths. He kissed her gently, letting his soft, warm lips soak up the shape of her own, the sweet taste of her tongue, the way she held her breath as he intensified their embrace.

When they parted, he kept her close to him and put his forehead against hers before closing his eyelids and murmuring:

** "Don't say it. I don't want a farewell. I want a goodbye. I want an _I'm back._ " **

He opened his brown eyes and dip them into Clarke's eyes to support his next words.

** "You'll tell me when you get back." **

She held his gaze and echoed their promise:

** "When I get back." **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys, are you still there? Did you like this part? Please, let me know what you're thinking in the comments!
> 
> Also, I really need to decide. On one hand, I don't want to see any spoilers and want to keep the surprise of the new season. And on the other hand, there is a sick part of me who is seeking every info on Instagram, twitter, and youtube. So what, I've seen the first two episodes and now I'm crying like a baby? Well, I only have myself to blame haha. 
> 
> Please, think of me in your prayers. May Jason have my soul.


	14. Fourteen

Every week, Clarke would give Raven or Shaw, according to who was piloting the ship carrying the group descending to Earth 2 - they would think of renaming this planet later, that was for sure - something to Bellamy's attention.

The first time, the reproduction of a poem whose verses resonated in him, echoing their history.

 

_** "Between our hearts so much distance!  ** _

_** So much space between our kisses!  ** _

_** O bitter spell!  ** _

_** Oh, long absence!  ** _

_** Oh, great unfulfilled desires!" ** _

 

All the times Clarke had been snatched from him suddenly came back to him and a haunting sadness seized him. He had to stop his activities for a minute and force himself to breathe calmly until he could remember that this was not one of those heartbreaking separations they had previously experienced. It was moving away to find each other better. It was about building the foundations of what would be their life. It was about consolidating both their future and that of their friends. 

 

*****

 

The second week, a drawing that he unfolded in the secret of his tent in the evening. It was a sketch of their bodies, intertwined and asleep. Under the messy blankets, Bellamy could see their tangled legs. Clarke's head was resting on his chest and she had put her hand on his heart. He held her body tight in his arms. Her blond hair spread like a crown over his dark skin. A peaceful expression was displayed on their faces and a slight smile even stretched Bellamy's mouth. 

His lips stretched in front of this perfect work. The young man would never cease to be amazed at his partner's incredible talent. He folded it up tenderly and placed it inside the book he was reading.

 

** * **

 

A short letter came with the third wave. 

_**"I cut my hair again,"**_ she said. _**"I hope you're not holding it against me, but it's much more practical. I promise I'll let them grow when things finally calm down."**_

When he unfolded the paper, one of her long blond curls, tied with a blue ribbon, flew through the air before gently landing on his desk. He grabbed it tenderly between his fingers and placed it as a bookmark with the drawing he had received during the first week. Only one thought crossed his mind as he closed the book. He had seen Clarke with long and short hair. Attached, braided, released. Clean, dirty, muddy, blood-stained. Soaked in red once, when he had tried - and failed miserably - to save her from Roan. Tinted pink again when they returned to Earth. 

Clarke was still the most beautiful creature he could ever look at. 

 

** * **

 

In the fourth week, when Raven got off the ship and gave him nothing at all, his heart tightened. Maybe she was too busy to prepare anything? Perhaps she no longer had any inspiration? Maybe she was getting tired of it? 

He was beginning to panic when a familiar figure appeared at the shuttle door. 

_ Madi. _

The girl gave him her brightest smile. A smile full of kindness and innocence. Full of hope and optimism. A smile that warmed him from the inside out. She ran to him and, before he could stop her, jumped into his arms to hug him. The same way he saw him do it with Clarke, twice. A light and warm embrace that reminded him of everything he was fighting for. For his family, for their future, for happy days.

When she released him and ran after Raven on the way to their camp, he realized that Clarke had in fact just sent her the most precious thing she had in this world: her daughter, her responsibility. He promised himself at that very moment that the girl would also become his own.

 

** * **

 

It was only in the fifth week, when he unpacked with amazement the famous blue shorty she was wearing to drive him mad, still impregnated with her scent, that he could no longer hold out and in the deepest of the night, he found a secluded place to call her.

**"Trouble sleeping?"** she teased him.

**"You know I do, Princess,"** he replied. **"I can barely concentrate since I got your little gift."**

**"I knew you'd be pleased."**

**"I miss you so much, Clarke. Your smell, your skin, your lips... I didn't think ten weeks could seem so long."**

**"Well, try it for six years, you'll see it puts things in perspective."**

It was only a joke, but that didn't stop Bellamy's heart from tightening.

 **"I will come back, Clarke,** " he suddenly decided. **"By the time you send the next convoy, I'll return with Raven. They can do without me for a week, I-I can no longer be without you."**

It was true, gods, so true. He could no longer bear to feel this absence, this part of him missing, this fear of what could go wrong.

**"Bellamy..."** she sighed. " **You know how much I'd like to say yes to you. But they need you there. And they need me here. I know your heart tells you to give up everything and come to me, God knows mine too, but this time it's our reason we have to listen. Your presence here will only distract me and slow down our preparations. And without you at the camp, chaos would reign in a few days. It's not reasonable and you know it."**

Bellamy blew loudly before calming his nerves and answering:

** "The heart and the head, huh?" **

**"We are both now,"** she replied.

He heard her smile on the radio and it gave him the light he needed to keep hoping.

**"What are you doing now?"** he asked to change the subject.

A long silence enveloped him before she answered.

**"To be honest, I was just finishing undressing before going to bed."**

The cheerful tone of his voice made him shiver and he closed his eyes, briefly imagined her naked under the sheets. He visualized the curves of her body under the light fabric, the roundness of her hips and that of her chest, reminding him of how her nipples hardened under the cool of the night and pointed through the bed linen. 

When he opened his eyelids again, he was already hard and he immediately felt cramped in his pants. He opened the button when Clarke added, suddenly seductive:

** "I would like you to be here with me." **

Her breath was short and he understood that the young woman's excitement was surely equivalent to his at that moment.

 **"You know what I would do if I were here, don't you?"** he murmured.

It wasn't a question. They both knew what they would be doing if they were together at that moment. He whispered the words through the radio, showed her where to apply her palms. When to pinch. When to massage. When to stop. He asked her to slip her hand between her thighs while he himself held his penis with a firm hand and explained how fast to work her clit, what movements to use, which finger to insert into her pussy and when to add a second one. He begged her to imagine his own fingers on her, in her, his own mouth on her skin, on her neck, on her chest, on her lips.

**"Bellamy, she trembled at one moment, I want you... I want you inside me."**

It was these words that defeated him and he exploded into an intense orgasm when the memories of that incredible sensation, that of the first penetration of their embraces, came to him. His breath collided and the sound of his pleasure sparked Clarke's in thousands of sparks that blinded the young woman while her vagina pulsed powerfully around her fingers.

For a few minutes, there was only the silence of the forest around him and the sound of their breaths, which were first shattered, then calm, and finally quiet.

** "Clarke?" he called her when he thought she had fallen asleep. **

**"Mmm?"** she whispered, drowsy.

** "Only five more weeks to go..." **

**" Only five more weeks",** she replied, with a smile in her voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have you seen the two leaked episodes? I can't get over them, it was so great, I can't wait for the season to be truly aired. It will be my first season with you guys. I only read fanfictions since last August when season 5 ended, so I'm really curious to see what's going to happen after each episode. 
> 
> I hope you liked this part, let me know in the comment section.


	15. Fifteen

Those 35 days went by faster than Clarke had thought. She threw herself into the work and preparations to speed up the time as best she could.  
   
Sending Madi to Earth 2 was a difficult decision, but she didn't regret it. The girl was in good hands. Surrounded by Gaia and Indra. Protected by Echo and the rest of Wonkru. Spoilt by Murphy and Emori. Loved by Bellamy. And if Clarke knew one thing, it was that nothing else was as valuable as Bellamy's love.

Every evening, the young woman made it a point of honor to contact her companion, to inform him of her progress, tell him about her day, take news from the surface. To be truthful, their conversations were very similar to those Clarke had had during their six years of separation... Except that now she no longer had to imagine what he might have said or advised, Bellamy was there to comfort her and give her the answers she sometimes needed. Each of his words filled Clarke with unspoken happiness. Happiness that almost frightened her, but helped her to slowly heal from the feeling of abandonment that haunted her in the darkest hours of the night.

The hot moments they spent making love through the radio were also a significant advantage. If Clarke had ever been told that she would do such things, she would probably have choked on laughter and embarrassment. 

When the transport ship carrying their last 29 recruits as well as Jackson, Raven, Shaw, Abby, Kane and herself landed on the surface and she lowered the lever that would take her home, her heart was racing.

She observed the 34 people getting off the ship. 

She watched Shaw and Raven hug and kiss each other before venturing out on their way to their camp. 

She watched her mother support a Kane who was still very weakened by the many operations he had to undergo before and after his cryogenics awakening. 

It was only when everyone left her sight that she saw that someone was still there and waiting for her, smiling.

"Hey," Bellamy whispered as she walked to meet him.  
"Hey," she replied, stopping only a few inches from him.

Her sudden nervousness must have been evident on her face, as the young man laughed softly before grabbing her hand and linking his fingers to hers and saying:

**"Let's go home."**

She hardly swallowed. The words she would have liked to say remained trapped in her tight throat. A ball of intense emotions strangled her and she didn't know what to do with all that joy, all that hope, all that love. All she could do was nod before she followed in his footsteps.

Their camp was only a few minutes' walk from where the ship had landed. Raven and Shaw wanted to keep the shuttle close to them, not because they were afraid of having to evacuate this planet urgently - which was worth mentioning - but just because they could certainly use it as an energy source in their future developments. 

The two engineers, helped by several Eligius recruits and some Wonkru members, had already begun to imagine all the technological miracles they were going to put in place. Also, between two meetings, Clarke had heard the words "running water" and "electricity" and even "heating". All these things were clearly not her domain, so the young woman hadn't picked it up, but she was still eager to see Raven and his team get to work so she could observe the magic more closely. 

A path had been traced in the forest and wandered between the trees and bushes. From time to time, Clarke could hear an animal's cry, a stream's song, the whisper of the wind between the branches and her legs itching to go explore this planet, its fauna, and flora. 

Her eyes demanded to contemplate all these unknown landscapes. Her hands were fidgeting to be able to draw every detail of it. Once they would be settled into a welcome routine, she imagined setting up a small team and going on an expedition. She had in mind several projects she wanted to implement and could already visualize the maps she was going to draw, the registers she was going to complete. 

Clarke had overcome her apprehension and was now in a hurry to start her life. She had never really been able to do it on their native planet, she planned to make up for it here.

When they reached the "camp", Clarke immediately replaced this word in his vocabulary with the word "village". A "camp" was what they had experienced when they arrived on Earth in a crash. It was precarious fabrics placed on hastily cut pieces of wood. It was sheet metal torn from their shuttle and peaks higher than men to create a wall that would protect them from the natives. It was a rusty and fragile door that they thought was big enough to hold back an army of savages.

There is no door here. No walls. Certainly, a few cloths displayed here and there, but real waterproof and warm tents tagged with the Eligius logo. And scattered, real small houses, some still under construction, others finished. Sometimes, welcoming and cozy wooden chalets. Sometimes, huts hidden in the branches. And even, rarer and still in progress, a few troglodyte houses hidden in the rock face of the cliff that overlooked them and from which a waterfall flowed gently into a large natural pond. A small stream was running through the village center and Clarke could already distinguish the foundations from what was certainly about to become a mill. 

The young woman already didn't know where to look. Only Bellamy's burning and calloused palm in hers, fresh and smooth, still kept her in this incredible reality when a small, light and airy body forcefully crashed into her own. Immediately, she recognized the smell of flowers and lemon that characterized Madi and closed her arms around her in a strong and emotional embrace. Tears rushed spontaneously to her eyelids when she realized how much she had missed her daughter and closed her eyes to prevent them from flowing. She heard Bellamy's laughter beside her and felt the hand she had released coming to rest in her lower back and draw comforting patterns.

_**"I'm here,"**_ he said silently.

_**"All of this is real,"**_ he promised, without using words.

When she finally had the courage to open her eyes, she met the young man's brown irises over Madi's shoulder, who seemed reluctant to let go of her. She immersed herself in the depths of his warm and loving gaze and tightened her grip on Madi's body, and finally, this time she was sure: she was home. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, discovering Twitter and, at the same time, Bellarke fandom, is a little overwhelming, but you can find me there with @mllegilles
> 
> All comments are welcoming!


	16. Sixteen

The days on Earth 2 were much longer. Clarke had never realized it before. Today, however, this fact was remembered to her with disconcerting intensity. The hours were stretching, endless. The minutes seemed infinite. Every second taunted her, one always slower than the other.

All she wanted at this point was to be alone with Bellamy in their home. It didn't matter where this home was. A cottage, a cabin in the trees, a hole in the wall, even a mattress on the ground and a blanket would be enough. After all, she'd be home where Bellamy would be.

When - _finally!_ \- the second sun began its descent behind the skyline, coloring everything with incredible purple light, Bellamy met her gaze beyond the flames of the campfire around which they had all sat to eat.

What she read in it sparked an uncontrollable thrill in her that gently rose along her spine and spread over her arms and neck.

They got up, in sync, without even consulting each other and wished their friends a good evening. Clarke kissed Madi, already sound asleep, her head on Raven's lap, who had offered to keep her home for the night.

Something tightened in her belly when she reached Bellamy, who was waiting silently for her. The tension barely eased when her fingers tied to his and she followed him into the forest.

With her nerves raw, she didn't take the time to admire the nature that was awakening under the darkness of the falling night, the shimmering turquoise of the rivers, the phosphorescent purple of the moss on the trees and rocks, the fluorescent colors of these-night flowers that were blossoming under the moon.

However, her anxiety disappeared completely when Bellamy stopped by a small lake and moved to reveal the silhouette of a pretty cottage on stilts. Then she understood, the young man had built them a home. Their home.

Her steps led her to the house without her really realizing it and Clarke marveled at the fruit of what seemed to be several weeks of work. She laid her hand on the door handle and met Bellamy's eyes in a mute question. Always quiet, he nodded, silent invitation, and she gently pushed the door from their house.

The young man followed her without a word. She stopped to better embrace the kitchen, the table and the four chairs that circled it. Further away, an empty living room lined up and a fireplace was sleeping in a corner of the room, next to a library that was also empty of any books.

She took a few steps and entered a tiny corridor that led to three other closed rooms, each closed with a wooden door.

The first one opened onto a simple and practical bathroom, composed of a shower, a toilet and a sink, a perfect imitation of those of the mother ship on the Eligius IV. Clarke had noticed that equipment was being transported from it to the ground, but she had never paid more attention to it than that, and certainly would never have imagined that it would be used for that purpose.

The second door took her to a rather small room, equipped with a futon on a wooden platform, which she recognized as Madi's. Her heart warmed to the idea that Bellamy and Madi had worked together to build this house. Nothing made Clarke happier than the idea of her two favorite people discovering and learning to appreciate each other and live together. She walked into the room and detailed the drawings on the wall. A wave of pride overtook her. During their lonely years on Earth, Clarke had tried to teach the girl to draw, and she had shown herself very talented. However, she preferred still lifes to portraits that required more patience and precision and always left her frustrated with her work. Clarke recognized the landscapes that filled the Valley of Eden and lost herself in their astonishing details for a few minutes, before gently closing the door and moving on to the third room.

The latter, not surprisingly, was also a room. Their room. Clarke took a step forward and let herself be mesmerized by the large window that opened onto a small wooden terrace placed on stilts directly on the lake's surface. The sun was now setting and the room was warm, soft and soothing and illuminated the scene with a hundred golden reflections. Emotional, she looked at Bellamy, who stood quietly in the doorway of the bedroom door, and then her gaze fell on the bed that separated them.

A queen size bed, which took up almost all the space in the room and whose thick mattress invited - _among other things_ \- to rest.

Clarke wanted everything but rest right now.

**"Do you like it?"** Bellamy suddenly asked.

His voice cracked slightly, full of emotions, and the young woman immediately responded to the instinct to reassure him by crossing the distance between them.

**"Bellamy, I-"**

The words were missing, but she still tried to express her feelings as best as she could.

**"It's beautiful. I love it. How did you do it? It's unbelievable."**

The young man seemed to relax and put his hand through his black hair before answering:

**"Well, I don't know if you've noticed, but the days are longer here... And I thought you and Madi would like to have a place to live that would remind you of what you had in Eden."**

**"Me and Madi?"** she asked, surprised.

He frowned under the question, suddenly uncertain and almost embarrassed, before adding:

**"Yes... and me, if you want."**

The young man seemed so hesitant at this point that Clarke couldn't hold the hand she put on his arm to draw reassuring patterns, as he had done when she first arrived here a little earlier.

**"Bellamy, she whispered. Of course, I want you here, I can't imagine living in this house, in our house, without you by my side..."**

Something in his burning eyes changed and the air around them suddenly charged with electricity.

**"Where would you sleep anyway?"** she added with humor to dissipate the tension that almost made her vibrate.

He laughed softly and this sound warmed Clarke from the inside, making her safer and more serene.

**"You know,"** she whispered, placing her other palm on him and lifting up along his arms to his shoulders to finally tie her hands behind his neck, **"on Earth, I had arranged our village for all of you."**

**"Really?"** he asked in surprise, putting a blond, wild strand of hair behind her ear.

**"Yeah, a little bit every day. I started by transforming the church into a mess hall, then the old gas station into an infirmary. Then I prepared the first cabin for my mother and Kane, then another for Emori and Murphy. There was an old garage I emptied for Raven, I thought she could do her workshop there. Then I set up every other house to accommodate at least six beds. I enlarged the space of the square in the center of the village, thinking about the evenings we would spend by the fire. I knew we wouldn't all fit in, but I wanted to keep you a place with me."**

**"And where was my room?"** he asked, as he passed his arms around her waist tenderly.

**"Well, actually, you didn't have one,"** she replied softly, suddenly embarrassed.

Before a hurt glow crossed his eyes, she took his cheek in the cup of her palm and explained to him why. She told him how she had arranged their house, Madi's and hers, just like the one they were standing in at that moment. She described the fireplace, the furs on the floor, the shelf filled with books she knew he would like and that she would collect from her many explorations, the portraits hanging on the wall and the double bed in their room.

Bellamy stood still, left his arms around her body and his hands on her waist, gazed in wonder at the melancholic and soft glow of her blue eyes and the almost hypnotic way her lips moved when she spoke.

**"I did all this without even noticing it,"** she finally added. **"It was Madi who made me realize that I had included you in our family without realizing it and without even asking you for your opinion."**

More than anything else before, the words Clarke spoke anchored in his flesh, ran in his veins, imprinted themselves in his being and left him boiling with an emotion that he could barely contain. A feeling he was no longer familiar with, but which now consumed him entirely: happiness.

The happiness of knowing that at the darkest moments of his life, those when he thought he had lost Clarke forever, those very moments when he realized the depth of his feelings for the young woman and drowned in remorse and regret; that at those moments, Clarke, on her side, was hoping, and this enough for both of them. That while he tried to gather the pieces of himself by wandering in the ever dark and cold corridors of the Ark, Clarke, on Earth, healed in the hope of seeing him again and thrived on the dreams that her heart was planning without her head noticing.

**"What do you mean, without realizing it?** " he finally managed to ask when he was sure his own voice wouldn't break out of emotion.

Clarke's bright and sincere smile took his breath away, and if he wasn't so curious about her answer, he would surely have interrupted their conversation to kiss her passionately, here and now, and then never stop again.

**"Madi kept babbling about our life in this house, that you were going to love living here, that she was going to draw a big landscape and hang it on your side of the bed... And that's when I realized that- that I made you a place with us- with me. Because that's where you belong, Bellamy. That's where you've always belonged. I cannot imagine a world where we wouldn't be, in one way or another, together."**

The emotion eventually overwhelmed his partner who pulled her against him with unexpected force and held her in his arms as if he would never let her go. Moreover, at this moment, he was sure of it: he was never going to let go of her.

Bellamy's face found its place in the hollow of the young woman's neck, where she felt her lips briefly touch her skin. Clarke melted into his embrace and inhaled his scent for a long time, immersed herself in the pounding beats of his heart and the measured rhythm of his breathing.

After a long time, he released her and Clarke lifted her head up to dive her gaze into his own. Brown met blue. The stone kissed the ocean. The earth brushed the horizon. For a second, everything faded and the air crackled, full of anticipation.

**"What are we going to do now?"** Bellamy asked in a whisper.

**"Whatever the hell we want,"** replied the young woman smiling.

When he grazed her lips, so gently that she thought she was dreaming the touch of his mouth on hers, he managed not to give in to his devouring desire and didn't give her the chance to deepen their kiss. He added:

**"So what's our excuse now? There is no one left in cryogenic sleep. We chose to send a group of explorers to Earth 2, we decided to send you back to the mother ship to prepare our descent, then we chose to settle here all together... We no longer have to decide the fate of humanity... No more decisions to make for the survival of our people."**

The list of all the decisions they had made together echoed in her. Their choices, their discussions, their passionate arguments and the equally exhilarating way in which these ended.

**"There will always be something we can argue about, Bellamy,"** she replied, playful but reassuring. **"But I only need one reason to want you, only one thing makes me want you in every way."**

**"Oh yeah?"** he murmured, not looking away from her. **"And which one?"**

**"I love you."**

The words slipped on her tongue and danced on her lips as if in slow motion. Clarke could almost distinguish them, palpable in the air around them, moving and reaching Bellamy. Touching him, then moving him. He suddenly tightened his hands around her waist and his dark eyes shone with an emotion that showed through his voice, which shook when he said:

**"Well, that sounds like a hell of a reason to me."**

**"The best,"** confirmed the young woman.

Bellamy placed his own palm on the young woman's hand against his cheek before leaning his face towards hers. Their noses brushed and their lips grazed each other when he demanded:

**"Say it again."**

She didn't hesitate for a second when she said it again:

**"I love you, Bell-"**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love emotional Bellamy. No. I love Bellamy. Less than two weeks before season premiere guys! Are you excited?


	17. Seventeen

Bellamy's mouth swallowed the rest of his name when it fell on top of Clarke's. He tasted her lips slowly and eagerly and let her hot and strong hands run through his partner's shapes. Wherever he went, the young woman's skin burned. An intense and vivifying current flowed through them where their bodies touched each other.

They only interrupted their kiss to put their t-shirts over their heads. In the shadow of their entangled silhouettes, the suns of their new planet had now disappeared behind the skyline. A soft turquoise light radiated from the surface of the lake and brightened the area with a magical glow that was reflected in their eyes, giving the azure of those of Clarke a glow that transcended the young man to the depths of his being and giving the warm brown of those of Bellamy sparkles that seemed to explode when their gazes collided with one another.

Their kiss resumed, tender and languid, caresses of their lips, touches of their tongues, hands resting, wise but vibrating with impatience. Slowly, their grip increased, measured crescendo, as their lips, tongues, and hands demanded more.

In a gesture that Clarke would probably never get used to, Bellamy passed the tip of his tongue over her lower lip, claiming access, and she immediately let him deepen their kiss, replied with the same intensity, the same one that drove the young man to shudder with desire and restrain a first groaning sound.

Their previous embraces had been battles, passionate exchanges where when one pulled out its claws, the other bowed its back, or when the other got carried away, one knelt. A crossfire where everyone won, but where their hearts and bodies were slowly consumed under an unruly fervor.

This one embrace was a story. A story whose threads kept them alive, whose end of act marked the beginning of a new one and in which they wrote the lines from the touch of their tongues, the paragraphs from their combined breaths, the chapters from the curve of their intertwined bodies. And nothing ever interrupted the steady stream of their silent words. The story was written, smooth and flawless.

Once their shirts were removed, their lips joined again. Bellamy took Clarke's face in the cup of his hands to better hold her against him and savor the sweet taste of paradise that he had missed so much during those ten weeks of separation - which he had been missing, he thought, almost all his life. As if the young woman was filling a void inside him that had always existed, but with which he had eventually learned to live. Until today. Today, he no longer wanted to suffer this loss, to endure this absence, to experience this little piece of nothingness that had slowly but surely consumed him.

The young woman's fingers ventured to the belt of his pants, which she undid in a few gestures. They stepped back a few steps and the garment fell most by itself to the ground, accompanied by his boxer that Clarke had slipped along his thighs he didn't have any idea how.

The back of the young man's legs hit the bed behind him. With a slight impulse from her hand, she made him sit on the mattress and he accompanied his descent with dozens of kisses on her mouth, on her neck, on her cleavage, then on her stomach. She shivered under his lips and he struggled to hold back his desire to make her more than shudder. He wanted to devour her completely, to overwhelm her with kisses, to follow with his tongue the path of her chills. He needed to hear her moan under his caresses, sigh under his moves, beg more and more.

He removed the remains of his clothes from his ankles and, with a snap of his fingers, unhooked the young woman's bra. He gently stripped it off before burying his face in the hollow of her breasts. His left hand came to palm one while his mouth took care of the other and his right hand loosened the buttons on Clarke's trousers.

The young woman bent slightly under the delicious sensations that Bellamy was causing to her chest and he took the opportunity to free her from the layers of her clothing as well. When she stood naked against him, he walked away slightly. Close enough to feel her breath against his face, close enough for her delicious scent to keep intoxicating him, close enough for his hands to continue rubbing the shapes of both her hips and ass, but far enough away for his gaze to embrace the silhouette of his partner who was standing in the glow of the night. Their apple eyes met, then melted when Clarke suppressed the short distance between them to seal their lips and tangle their tongues.

He remained motionless, however, sitting on the edge of the bed, when she came straddling him, passing one knee, then the other, on either side of his legs. She wrapped her arms around his neck to steady herself and he let his palms run along her calves, then her thighs, before going up to her hips and grabbing her butt into the palms of his hands.

_That woman drove him crazy. Such curves should have been forbidden._

When she felt his cock erect at her entrance, she lifted slightly and leaned her forehead against Bellamy's before slowly lowering herself and the young man kept his gaze fixed in Clarke's until he was completely buried inside her. Then, the feeling of their perfectly nested bodies overwhelmed them both and they closed their eyelids with a gentle moan. Their breaths mingled, intoxicating them both.

Ten weeks had never seemed so long to them. That was an understatement, knowing that both had waited more than six years to be reunited with the people they loved before they finally found each other again.

He let her lead the dance, completely hypnotized by the movement of her body, the rhythm of her breathing, the singing of her cries. Blinded by her beauty and by the intensity of their feelings now exposed. He held her, stroking her back, lifting her hips, running his fingers through her blond curls. He guided her, towards his own pleasure when he made her increase the speed of her pelvis movements by making her meet his own; and towards her pleasure too, when he ventured his hand between them and began to massage her clit in precise and efficient strokes. Finally, the pressure of his fingers reached his goal and he felt her tightening all around him in a devastating orgasm, his name on her lips.

He didn't follow her right away, not wanting this moment to stop, not wanting that this moment, which seemed beyond time and space, to escape them and slip away.

It was only when she regained her senses a few seconds later and whispered in his ear the words that would always make him lose his mind that he gave up all control.

**"I love you so much, Bellamy,"** she whispered, punctuating her words with a kiss on his temple.

**"I love you,"** she added, kissing her neck.

**"I love you,"** she continued, going up along his jaw to his lips.

**"I love you,"** she whispered, diving her azure gaze into his.

She laid her lips against his own and immediately bound their tongues by deepening their kiss. It was these words that defeated his resolve. These words, and the slow and deep comings and goings of Clarke's hips against him.

His climax left him dazed for several minutes and he was almost certain that unconsciousness took over for a while. When he regained his senses, later that night, it was to discover that they had both managed to make their way under the covers of their bed.

_Their bed. Their bed, in their room. Their room, in their house._

A pure and raw emotion suddenly embraced him and he tightened the embrace of his arms around Clarke's body as if to better anchor himself in this reality. This reality that he had always refused to imagine, that he had always feared to consider, that he had long believed impossible, that he had often missed in the belief that it could never happen.

This tender and protective gesture woke his partner from her light sleep and she left the comfort of his chest to lift herself up on an elbow and look at him. She could have watched it for hours and hours. Capture in her memory the details that seemed to escape her all the time.

The number of freckles he has.

The way his new beard - _new to her_ \- fitted his square jaw, without hiding the dimple of his chin.

The hundred shades of its brown apple eyes. These eyes, fixed on her at that moment, which lit up with a glow as warm and bright as the sun itself, when Bellamy opened his mouth to ask:

**"What now?"**

The murmur of his deep, hoarse voice echoed throughout the room into her heart. Clarke pondered for a few seconds before smiling and whispering, so as not to disturb the quiet of that night, which belonged only to them:

**"Now we live..."**

 

**_FiN_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go, it's over for good now!  
> I really LOVE writing in English and hoping it's not too painful to read for you.  
> Thanks to everyone who read this fic, and especially to all the ones who took the time to leave a comment and give me their opinion. Your reviews really warm my heart, even if you only write a few words, it means the world to me so never hesitate!  
> Also, if you liked this fiction, I have another one in English and several others in French. Why don't you take a look at it?


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